Plausible Deniability
by Golden Snowflake
Summary: Maddie Fenton has mixed feelings about having company over for more than a few hours at a time. (Pompous Pep oneshot)


**Plausible Deniability**

by Golden Snowflake

xxx

Maddie Fenton has mixed feelings about having company over for more than a few hours at a time.

Despite the increasing number of competent paranormal investigators and hunters in Amity Park, she feels responsible for the safety of her community and for her children who, despite being bright and capable young adults, only stir up fiercer protective instincts as they mature. She fell in love with Jack ghost hunting, built a life with him ghost hunting, and has only grown to love inventing and researching with him more as time unfolds. And despite the absurdity of it, when she's not writing an article on a new discovery or showcasing a new anti-ghost gadget at a convention, a nagging voice in the back of her head tells her that she's not doing enough to earn the grants the Fentons have been awarded.

It doesn't help that the person on her doorstep, suitcase in hand, is Vlad Masters.

He gives her a squeeze and a "My dear, how are you?" before Jack's ecstatic shout echoes up the basement stairs. There's a crash and a shout, and her husband announces that he'll be up in a minute.

And then, shockingly, Vlad pulls away easily and strolls into the living room. "Did you redo the cupboards? It looks lovely!"

Raising an eyebrow, Maddie hesitates. Odd.

"Yes," she replies, following hesitantly. "Last September, in fact."

The hulking form of her husband finally explodes from the basement and wraps their college friend in a suffocating embrace, making the billionaire grimace with horror as Jack babbles delighted greetings. The peculiar feeling from earlier fades and Maddie hides a smirk behind her hand.

Jazz and Danny emerge from their rooms with minimal coaxing, and after a hushed interrogation, it's discovered that Jack completely forgot to turn the crock pot on. Danny gives a relieved sigh and she shoots him a glare, and Jazz utters, "We could always order takeout."

Jack, frantically knitting his hands together, glances at Vlad. Vlad shrugs.

And that's how the Fentons and the man who has endeavored tirelessly to destroy their family end up scattered around the living room, shoveling down boxes of fragrant, sauce-slathered Chinese food and chatting about every minute detail of their lives.

As time passes, the feeling returns. Maddie tells herself she's imagining it and orders herself not to dwell on it, but something is markedly different. Vlad winces a few times at her husband's stories, muttering half-hearted affirmations, and nods and smiles politely at her interjections before chiming in with his own recent experiences and ventures. He asks Jazz what she's studying in college, and the conversation shifts to universities and which ones Vlad recommends, and all the while, he only looks at Maddie when she has something to add before returning his attention to the current discussion. Even when Jack collects the empty food cartons and returns, sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder, the billionaire only offers the much larger man a brief smile before replying to their daughter's question.

The barely-contained vitriol - the icy jealousy that swims beneath the man's eyes and escapes in small bursts almost every time he speaks - is wholly absent.

It's nearing ten when Maddie has almost convinced herself that there's nothing going on. Then Jack sighs, gives a long, noisy stretch, and tells Vlad that they've got a brand-new air mattress and some fresh sheets in the hall closet, and without missing a beat, Danny scratches at a speck of dirt on his jeans and says casually, "Vlad can sleep in my room. It's actually kind of clean for once."

Maddie Fenton tends to be apprehensive about having guests over. She doesn't like leaving her research unattended for too long and feels like she's protecting her family most when chasing ghosts. It's something she has control over; something definite and certain when her children are withdrawn and enigmatic.

That's why, an hour and a half later, when she passes Danny's closed door on the way to bed and hears a soft, high-pitched noise that her motherly instincts tell her without a doubt is her son, she barely hesitates before continuing down the hallway.

Because that can't possibly be what's changed.

Because it's utterly absurd and beneath even the man who tried to sabotage her happiness for decades.

Because as long as she and Jack are doing everything within their power to keep Amity safe from ghosts, they're completely in control and everything will be okay.

Her absentminded smile falters for only a moment before she puts it back in place and closes the bedroom door behind her.


End file.
